Saturday, August 30, 2014

Friday Fiction is a weekly blog meme where writers can share clips from their WIPs or pieces of short fiction. ^_^ To join in the fun, add your story link to the widget below. Stories must be PG-13. Don't forget to read and comment.

FRIDAY FICTION : Accidental Summons

“Piece of paper—over here, one more mark—and then—oh. Got it. There we go,” Lora wiped her forehead, scowling when her too-short bangs flipped back in her face. She’d done this ritual every semester since freshman year. Capping the marker in hand, she surveyed the colorful squiggles that made up her artistic mandala.

Drawing things always refreshed her and the more colors she used, the better. She’d used every single marker in the twenty-four pack she’d squeezed into her grocery haul. The result was a gorgeous rainbow of shapes, swirls and even some stray glitter eye shadow.

Saturday, August 23, 2014

Friday Fiction is waking up from a very long nap and checking to see if there are any interested writers looking to share their short fiction. ^_^ To join in the fun, add your story link to the widget below. Stories must be PG-13. Don't forget to read and comment.

FRIDAY FICTION : Awkward Thief

Simone froze when the masked figure straightened to his full
height. “Well, this is awkward,” she muttered.

Fenwick was not supposed to be here.

No, really. He wasn’t supposed to be in Haddock’s Custom
Jewelry at four past midnight, stuffing the contents of the left-side glass
case into a frilly pillowcase.

Not Fenwick. Not straight-A, I-will-be-a-detective-just-like-my-father
Fenwick. Not the one who had managed to single-handedly apprehend the notorious
Comet Chaser gang.

He sneered at her and went back to shaking the velvet
holders into his loot bag. “Don’t just stand there,” he growled. “Come and
help, if you’re only going to gawk.”

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

There. I said it. Too late to take it back now. I'm downright terrified of failing. What if I flop? What if I completely screw everything up? What if I muck it up so badly that there's no hope of---oh wait, I'm not talking about myself here, I'm talking about my writing. Right.

Writing, which is my dream, my hope and the one thing that puts a ridiculous smile on my face even on a dreary Monday morning.

But still--I'm afraid to fail. I'm afraid to really unleash my crazy imagination, to put into words the worlds in my head and share the craziness that makes my ordinary life extraordinary. To really write the stories that I want to read--the stories that are needed. I'm scared. I'm terrified. I don't want to be rejected.

And I'm also procrastinating. Because if I have a reason--any reason at all--be it a legitimate feeling or just those cliche butterflies in my stomach and I can talk myself out of taking that big, nerve-wracking risk, I'll take it. I'll stay in my corner with comfy pj's, a monster-sized cup of tea and a thick, fat notebook, mumbling about how I could've been.

That's a pretty sad picture. So when I found this quote, I turned it into my desktop background, so I'd see it on a daily basis and remember to be brave.

B-but what if I fail? Oh, my darling, but what if you fly?

Am I writing scared? Yep. Probably always will be. Probably will still manage to talk myself down--and back up to where I need to be. Yes, I can bellyflop straight into a pile of misery, novice mistakes and worse. But I can also keep on writing and working on improving that writing. Because if I don't fail--I guess I'm flying, because my feet aren't on the ground.

This is my first post for the the Insecure Writer’s Support Group. It is an online community where writers can share their encouragement or insecurities on the first Wednesday of every month. To join the group or find out more, please click here and check it out!

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

PROMPT SNIPPET
He fumbled with the cutlery, then looked up with wide, panicked eyes, to see if anyone had noticed his blunder.

We all pretended not to notice, going so far as to talk about how loud the air-conditioner rattled from its place in the apartment window. It was pointless, meaningless and yet, we protected his fragile self out of habit.

For we were family and sometimes, that meant doing this even when you didn't understand why it had to be you.

This week's Friday Fiction is hosted by the talented Yvonne "Vonnie" Blake, over at her blog My Backdoor Ministry. Click here...

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About

Sara is an Indie Author writing both inspirational Fiction and Faith-filled Fantasy. She is a graduate of the Christian Writer's Guild and holds a B.A. in English from state university. She has written over two-hundred short stories and is published in anthologies, inspirational newsletters and e-zines.